Authors: Melody Carlson
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Good for you.”
After I drop off Olivia, I try Felicity's number again, but it's just the same. No answer, no messaging service. This does not seem normal. I decide just to drive by where Felicity lives. I won't stop. I won't even slow down. I just want to see it for myself.
Ebony is right about the neighborhood. It's really bad. The houses are old and run-down and small. Some of them even have old furniture piled around, like someone just decided to throw everything out. The yards are mostly patches of weeds and junk. And the cars parked here and there don't look like they could even run. Very sad. I see the tiny house where Felicity lives—a small white one with peeling paint, just as bad as the rest. I cannot even imagine going up there and knocking on the door. Seriously, this looks like the kind of neighborhood where a person could get shot.
I keep on driving. But as I drive, I ask God to specifically show me what I need to do about Felicity. “You gave me that vision,” I remind Him. Like God needs a reminder. “Please show me why What can I do?”
Then I know I need to just trust Him. And wait.
The next day, Friday, Felicity is absent again. And at noon, it's Jack who approaches me. I force a tiny smile
for him, and he looks slightly less threatening than usual. This is a guy with those dark, slightly scary looks—like
don't mess with me, man.
But the more I get to know him, the less intimidating he seems.
“Did you get hold of Felicity?” he asks.
“No. I tried a bunch of times. Nothing.”
He nods with a creased brow. “Me too.”
I study his dark eyes for a moment. He seems sad. “Do you think she's okay, Jack?”
He looks surprised by my question, but I decide to pursue this a bit more. “I mean, I know she's into some stuff…” I glance around like I don't want anyone to hear us, but we're standing off by ourselves outside the cafeteria. “That could be dangerous, you know?” I look at him, and he nods, just barely. “And anyway, I guess I'm worried that something could've happened to her. I was wishing I had her mom's phone number.”
They don't have a phone in the house,” he says. “And her mom just has one of those cheap cell phones for emergencies only.”
“Have you met her mom?”
“Sort of.” He shrugs. “I saw her. She's not much of a mom.”
I want to ask him what he means by this, but I don't want to seem too nosy. I don't want to make him suspicious. “That's too bad.”
“Yeah. Felicity says she pretty much takes care of herself. She can't count on her parents for anything.”
“Does she have a job?”
He scowls, and I almost expect him to tell me to butt out. Then he mutters, “Sort of.”
“Well, it's gotta be hard. I just hope she's okay.”
“I stopped by her house this morning,” he says. “Knocked on her door, but it was just like yesterday… Nobody answered.”
I nod. “Well, if you hear anything or if there's anything I can do, let me know. I really do care about her.”
“Thanks.” Then he walks away.
Once again I'm stunned. Not that Jack talked to me— I recovered from that one yesterday. But I'm shocked that he almost seems to trust me. That is totally unexpected. But even as I think this, I feel guilty. I can't imagine what Jack would do if he knew I was working with the police. He'd probably assume I was a narc and was out to get both him and Felicity. And who knows how he would react to that. I mean, I've seen that guy when he's mad, and I think he may have a real anger problem. Okay, this is a truly frightening thought.
Suddenly I realize I need to be very careful. I need to rely on God more than ever just now. I seriously need Him to guide my steps. This is not a game.
I
invited Garrett to come with us tonight,” Olivia informs me I when I pick her up. “But he turned me down because he was doing something with his foster parents. He also told me that his foster parents and his counselor are talking to the DA about some kind of plea bargain for him.”
That makes it sound like he's guilty,” I point out.
“Plea bargain
might be the wrong term. But he's going to exchange evidence about his own sources in order to be excused from going to trial. He may get stuck with some community service.”
“That should be a relief. I, know that whole trial thing's been hanging over his head.”
“He said that it sounds like everyone's pretty convinced it was a plant in my car and that it had nothing to do with the three of us.”
“Yeah, Ebony mentioned something like that to me this week.”
“So things are looking up for old Garrett.”
“That's cool,” I say as I slow down for a light that's still green. I'm being extra careful with my “new” car. “And it's cool that he wants to get better acquainted with his foster family. His mom seems really sweet.”
“Yeah. I think he's seeing them in a whole new light now.”
“And I'm sure they weren't too excited about the possibility of him going to another party that could get busted.” I kind of laugh, although I don't really think it's funny.
“Hopefully, that won't be the case. And if it is, we're like so outta there, Sam. I mean it.”
“I'm with ya.”
This time we don't do any back-alley parking. I leave my bright green car right in front of the well-lit house, where it's easily observable and where we can make a fast getaway if necessary. I also double-check to make sure my car is securely locked. I am taking no chances.
Fortunately, tonight's celebration looks like it'll be a lot tamer than that crazy sweet-sixteen party. It turns out that the family is Hindu, and entering their house feels like a minitrip to India. Throughout their home, I see ornately carved furniture, exotic fabrics, large sculptures, and colorful carpets. We meet Dr. and Mrs. Hassan, who politely introduce us to the birthday boys, Ajay and Vijay. These guys both seem pretty shy and slightly embarrassed by all this attention, but they start to loosen up when the band begins to play.
Their mother is wearing a sari of beautiful orange silk along with some expensive-looking jewelry. She and her husband actually dance to one of the slower songs, and I feel fairly certain these parents will be sticking around tonight.
Because it's an unseasonably warm evening with no rain, the party extends into the backyard, where small lanterns and strings of lights are everywhere. A canvas, tentlike awning is set up near the pool to protect the food
tables. And for the first couple of hours, everything seems fun and lively, but not out of control. It seems that Ajay and Vijay are actually having a good time. I even take turns dancing with both of them.
It's about ten when I notice that the party is getting a lot more crowded and noisy. And the new faces are a little rougher looking, kids who don't exactly appear to be friends of the birthday boys. Ajay and Vijay are polite to the newcomers, but I can tell they're unsure what to do. I look around for the elder Hassans. They were just here a few minutes ago, and I'm sure they haven't left the premises, but I also suspect they're unaware of the party crashers.
I also notice that some of the recent arrivals have obviously been drinking and appear to be trying to turn this into a much wilder party. Voices grow loud, and kids act careless and crazy—the way people sometimes think it's okay to be when they're in someone else's home. The idea of things getting out of hand and ruining the Hassans’ party or any of their lovely things is disturbing, so feeling a lot like a real cop, I set off in search of the parents. My hope is to give them a quick heads-up before it's too late.
I look for them out in the backyard without success, and just as I emerge from the food tent, I notice a girl standing by the swimming pool. I can't believe it—it's Felicity! She's okay! I try not to appear overly excited as I hurry over to speak to her. “Hey, Felicity,” I say calmly. “What're you doing here?”
She shrugs. “Oh, I know Ajay and Vijay from my old school.” She glances over her shoulder in a way that makes me wonder if she's ‘actually a crasher too.
“I missed you in journalism class these past couple of days…”
“Jack told me you've been asking about me.” She narrows her eyes now.
“Why exactly?”
“Just because I missed you,” I say lightly even though it is redundant.
“Yeah, but Jack said you were
really
worried about me. I don't get that, Samantha. It's not like we're best friends or anything. What's up with that?”
Wanting to ward off her suspicion, I make a sheepish little smile and try to come up with a response before this goes totally sideways on me. “Well, it's weird, really,” I say, deciding that honesty might be my best approach, although I obviously can't tell her everything. “Do you ever get a feeling about something—kind of like an intuition?”
She studies me warily, then slowly nods. “Yeah, that's happened to me before. Why?”
“Well, that happens to me a lot. And that day you weren't in journalism, I was thinking about you, and I just got this really uncomfortable feeling inside, an intuition that something was wrong. Enough that I got pretty worried about you.”
She frowns. “Really?”
“Yeah. That's why I asked Jack about you.”
“He said it was because of some-journalism project.”
“That wasn't exactly right. Mostly I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smile at her. “And it looks like you are.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Now I'm slightly perplexed. “Still, it does make me wonder…”
“What?”
“Well, when I get those feelings, they're usually right.”
“Really?” She looks pretty skeptical now.
“Yeah.” Okay I'm not sure how deep I want to get into this. It could backfire on me. Still, if her safety or life is on the line…
“So what's your point?” she asks impatiently.
“Maybe that feeling I had is supposed to be a warning to you.”
“A warning for what?”
“You know, like maybe you could be in some kind of danger.”
“Yeah, right.” She scowls. “What about life
isn't
dangerous?”
I shrug, unsure how to respond.
“Is that it then?” she asks in an irritated tone. “Like I'm supposed to take your random little warning seriously? Get real.”
“I know it sounds pretty vague, but I guess if you're involved in anything that could…well, you know, be dangerous…maybe you need to watch out and be more careful.”
Now she looks downright mad. “Is that some kind of threat?”
I hold up my hands as if to proclaim innocence. “No, of course not, Felicity. It's just that I thought we were friends. And I was honestly worried about you, and I felt like I should warn—”
“What's going on?” Jack demands from behind me, like he appeared out of nowhere. I hope he didn't see me jump or the fear in my eyes.
“Samantha is telling me this lame story,” Felicity relays
to him in a sarcastic tone. “Like I'm in some sort of horrible danger.”
“What kind of danger?” Jack frowns at me.
“I don't know exactly… I just had this feeling about her. I told Felicity that I get these intuitions sometimes, and I had one about her.”
“And she starts telling me that I need to watch out so I don't get hurt.” Felicity rolls her eyes.
But Jack peers closely at her now. “And what do you think?”
She laughs. “I think Samantha is full of it.”
I force myself to laugh too. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” Then I look directly into her eyes. “And no problem, you can think I'm crazy if you want. But seriously, if I didn't like you and if I didn't consider you my friend, I wouldn't have bothered to tell you this. Just take it for what it's worth. Okay?”
Her eyes soften a little. “Yeah, well, okay. It's just a little freaky.”
“I know.”
“The beverages at this party aren't much,” Jack tells Felicity.
I nod. “Yeah, I think the parents are pretty conservative, and I know for a fact they won't tolerate any alcohol here.”
“Maybe we should just go,” says Jack.
“Yeah,” says Felicity. “I heard there's a good party over on Oak Street tonight. Wanna check it out?”
“Let's get some food first.” Jack nods toward the tent.
“Good to see you guys,” I say, thinking I better make my escape. “I'm glad you're okay, Felicity.”
She makes a smirky face. “Yeah, but I better watch out, huh?”
I shrug. “Just be safe, okay?”
She throws back her head and laughs loudly. Then Jack grabs her by the arm, and they head off to plunder the food that's left in the tent. Although I happen to know it's already picked over by now.
Okay, it's times like this that I sort of question myself. I mean, what am I doing giving warnings to someone like Felicity? Telling her about my “intuitions”? Acting like I know what's best for everybody? Like I think I'm the security guard, the safety patrol, the hall monitor? And yet God has given me this gift. I know I have this calling. How can I pretend it's not real?
I silently pray for wisdom and strength as I continue my search for the Hassans. And as I walk through the house, I see that the partyers have gotten even wilder. Ajay is standing near the stairs looking very uncomfortable, and Olivia is singing right now but giving me
the look—
like maybe we should split. I nod to her, hoping to assure her I'm okay, at least for the moment.